Immortalis
by Alcos
Summary: When your world dies what can one do? Move on to the next one. This is a tale between worlds, and when two young immortals appear on earth, both running from their own demons, how will they affect the Avengers? How will the Avengers affect them? X-over between HP, LOTR, and Avengers. Will contain some romance, and will contain characters from the Silmarillion, I don't own anything!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! My name is Alcos, scribe of the** **fan fiction ;) This is my first attempt at a fanfic, and I'm still in the process of writing. Hopefully I'll be able to publish once a week, but with Uni that may become difficult. So, I'll try my best! I would love some reviews, and if you see any errors please point them out. I don't have a beta, so there's likely going to be some problems. WARNING, this story uses characters** **from the Silmarillion, so if you are unfamiliar with the characters I apologize. Feel free to use wiki/Main_Page to look up anything you don't understand. I will be making some small changes, but the majority of what you read on the wiki will stand for this story. Now, Without further ado, onto the story!**

 **Prologue**

Few have heard the tales of the War of Wrath. Few know of the great battles that changed Middle Earth, that sent a great land under the sea. And fewer still know of what truly happened that day. Heroes were not as heroic, villains less villainous. The three Silmaril, thought to be lost, were not quite so hidden as one might think. And among the rubble now submerged in the great westward ocean lay the greatest secret of the First Age. Deep in the sea lay a temple, constructed by the Valar themselves. Within that temple lay a door. Beyond that a staircase that spirals down to the darkest pits of fire. And at the very bottom lay a being, a creature of such immense power that even all the hosts of the Valar could not stand before him. It took the great hero Eärendil, armed with one of the three gems of light, to defeat him. Many thought he was slain, many thought that his life had ended as he crashed into the mountains below. But they had been mistaken. Only the Valar knew the truth. Only they knew that one of their greatest enemies in battle had survived, and only they knew of his true past. And so he slumbered, protected by many miles of water, rock, and fire. His sleep was deep, as Eärendil has pierced him during their final clash. He had driven the light of the Valar into his mind and soul, cleansing the hatchling of the darkness of Morgoth from him. He slept for thousands of years, through the Second, Third, and Fourth Ages of Middle Earth. He slept till the world broke. This is his tale. This is the story of Ancalagon the Black, the greatest of the dragons.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again! I figured I would start posting the chapters now, so I don't just have a prologue. Hope you guys like this! Reviews are appreciated! I have a pretty good idea of where the story is going, but feel free to suggest anything! Without further adieu**

Chapter 1 – Awakening

A rumble shook the ground. With a nervous glance a cloaked man looked around the dark cavern. He was the last. His hair was a pale silver, wispy as it moved around as if driven by some force. His pale skin gleamed in the darkness, radiated a little light. A cut, jagged and fierce stared up from his inner forearm. A reminder of his failure. He sent his silver white eyes across the cavern, lost in thought They had thought themselves invincible, thought themselves beyond the reach of Morgoth. Perhaps thousands of years without him had dulled their senses. Regardless, they had fallen. Each of his fellow Valar, now bound in the void. They had thought that by casting Morgoth out they were weakening him, but truly they were only delaying his rise to power. The war that had followed his return had been devastating. Men were destroyed, Dwarves killed in droves while mining their precious gems. Elves were all but a memory now, Arda laid in ruins. Each of his fellow Ainur now dead or dying. And so he was left to enact the final will of the Valar. He, Mandos, was to bring death to this already dying world. But first, he wanted to see them one last time. The lights from the beginning of it all. And so he had followed the trail under the sea, through the temple and down into the abyss. And now here he was, alone in a world razed by fire and shadow. Or so it seemed. A breeze blew through the massive cave, hot and dry. Oh yes, Mandos thought, not entirely alone. It was then another rumble echoed through the ground. A large scraping sound responded, filling the air with the sound of claws against the ground.

Mandos' eyes widened. Could it be? Could after millennia the great beast finally be rousing? A bitter part of him scoffed at the gigantic dragon. Couldn't he have woken when there was still hope? Still, the thought of being here for such an occasion was not something to be taken lightly. The only one to have spoken with the beast had been Varda, the Queen of the Stars, and all she had said about Ancalagon was he was "interesting", a small smirk playing on her lips while she did.

Minutes, hours, days passed, time held little meaning to Mandos, before the darkness of the cavern was interrupted. While he had expected something large, Mandos was not prepared to meet the eyes of the dragon before him. Or rather, eye. The eyelid raised slowly, bathing the cavern in deep red glow. Mandos gawked at the immense size of the eye, watching in awe as the inner eyelid of the dragon blinked a few times as the dragon slowly regained consciousness.

"Eru help me…" His voice was harsh; he had not spoken for many years.

"Who is there?"

Mandos started at the boom that filled the cavern. The beast's voice seemed to fill the entire air as he spoke, but it seemed different from what Mandos had anticipated. He had expected an air of power, something to denote the might of this now ancient being. The voice he heard now seemed almost… childish.

"My name is Mandos. I am the keeper of death."

"Am I dying?"

"No," came Mandos' small reply, "but the world is."

"Oh. Is that bad?"

Mandos looked up at the giant eye with surprise. Is it bad? What sort of question is that?

"Yes… why wouldn't it be?" The dragon's eye seemed to lose focus for a moment, before looking back at the Valar.

"Will HE die with it?" The voice, once so loud, was much quieter now. He, Mandos thought. There was only one being that could it could be, but the reason behind the trepidation in the dragon's tone alluded him.

"Yes, we will all die with it. The spell that I am going to cast will loose the bonds on death. In essence, I am freeing death to reap this world and any on it. But why does that matter to you, drake? Why do you wish to see your old master die?"

At the end of the last question a rumble once again filled the cavern, but this one was not from the surface. The red in the dragon's eye intensified as deeper in the cavern another source of light began to burn. His fire, Mandos thought, is burning deep. Any thoughts on the fire of the dragon halted with the next words to leak from Ancalagon's mouth.

" _Master_? Is that what you being think he is? My _MASTER_?" The anger was clear, hatred rolling of the dragon in waves. "That… thing… was no more my master than he is yours. He took my out of the shell and saw me for what he needed. _A weapon._ He tortured me, took my sire and killed him in front of me. He had me attack Ungoliant, fighting her until I could hold my own. He gave me no love, Mandos, and so I gave him none in return. Then, not 10 cycles after my hatching he sent me off to fight, clouding my mind with his darkness."

10 cycles? What could he mea… oh. Mandos looked up at the livid dragon with a new view. A cycle back in the First Age was what a year was called. It had been so long he had forgotten. A sick feeling filled his stomach. They had sent out Eärendil, with a Silmaril no less, to kill a ten year old. It had been war, yes, but the thought still made him cringe. A second thought filled his mind as well, one that pressed against the edge of his mind. When they had fought him, when he had decimated their army, he was but a hatchling. How much stronger, how much larger was he now?

"Mandos?" the quiet uncertainty was back. Of course it was, he was still just a child mentally.

"Yes Ancalagon?"

"When do we have to destroy everything?"

"Not until Morgoth finds me. Then I must cast my spell."

"Will you teach my then?" Now that was a surprising. Mandos stared yet again at the beast, trying to come up with a response.

A sputter ended up coming out, "What could I teach you?"

"Magic."

"You're a little large to practice magic in here hatchling," the dragon seemed to be content with Mandos' new name for him, "but I can try."

"Oh. That's not a problem. The star lady taught me how to do this when she helped me to fall asleep." Mandos raised a brow at this. Of course she taught him something. He chuckled at the thought of the mighty Varda mothering this immensely powerful dragon. His chuckle died in his throat though when a flash of red light filled the cavern, momentarily blinding him. When his eyes adjusted the darkness was back, the black dragon was gone.

"Hatchling?" Mandos called into the dark. "Ancalagon?"

"Here!" a voice called out, much quieter than the dragons loud voice, from directly behind him. Mandos spun around to face the sound. And once again he stopped in shock. This dragon truly was filled with surprises. Standing not two feet away from him was Ancalagon, but gone was the dragon larger than mountains, gone was the beast that could crush armies with a flick of his tail. Instead, a child stood in his place. Young, not much larger than a hobbit would stand, he was not what Mandos had been expecting. Conjuring a small light, the Vala moved closer to get a better look at the child. His hair was a deep black, reminiscent of his scales. The light seemed to disappear into its depths. His skin was slightly pale, his limbs very lean. Though he appeared to be human, there were a few aspects that revealed his true race. His ears, ever so slightly pointed. His teeth, the incisors much sharper than that of a normal mans. And his eyes. Though they were normal, the irises were a deep ruby red, practically glowing with power.

"Hatchling? What…"

"I changed. It's what Varda told me to do. Now can you teach me?" Mandos looked down at the youngling, and after a moment smiled and shook his head.

"I never expected this. Yes, hatchling. I'll teach you."

 **In the summary of this fic I placed a warning that this will contain characters from Tolkien's** ** _The Silmarillion._** **For clarification purposes I am going to include a small list of the characters that I think will be all the characters you will need to know (I may add some more later) and a small description of them. However, I am NOT going to include their entire back story. Tolkien made a world for Lord of the Rings that is incredibly complicated, and if I tried to explain everything I would literally just be copying and pasting** ** _The Silmarillion_** **onto fanfiction. If you have any other questions as to characters after reading this list then you can PM me, or (as I would suggest) make a quick visit to the LOTR wiki to brush up on your Middle Earth History (way more exciting than ours XD ).**

 **The List:**

 **Ancalagon the Black** **– The greatest dragon to have ever lived. He was larger than mountains, and his power was immense. He served under Melkor during the War of Wrath, a huge war that ended the first age of Middle Earth.**

 **Melkor** **– Literally Tolkien's Satan. Called the second strongest being ever in Lord of the Rings world he tried to interfere when Eru (Tolkien's God) was forming all of creation. He came to Arda, or earth. When he lost the War of Wrath he was cast out of the world, into a timeless void. During the war he was called Morgoth by a man that fought him, and this is how he was more commonly known by others.**

 **Mandos** **– He, along with 13 others, were called the Valar. They were like the gods of the world, though more like angels when compared to Eru. They belonged to an immortal race called Ainur, which were spirits (this race included Melkor, Sauron, the Balrogs, and the wizards like Gandalf and Sarumon). They were the strongest of this race, the weaker ones (Gandalf, Sauron, and such) were known as the Maiar. Mandos was the basically the God of the Dead, judging souls and such, though he is more responsible for the souls of the elves. In my story I have adjusted it slightly so that he was the Keeper of Death, responsible for the souls of all on Arda, as well as keeping death from taking elves souls unless they die by physical means. The other Vala that I mention is Varda, who was called the Queen of the Stars. She was the queen of the Valar.**

 **That should be all for now. If you have any questions, please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back! So this was a much longer chapter, though I'm not sure what I think of the ending. Otherwise here it is! Thanks for the follows and favourites, and a shout out to my first Follower Armed Truth and my first Fav Fallen Preserver. Sadly, with mid terms coming up here I don't think I'l be posting once a week, but I'll still try to post somewhat regularly. School comes first though. Thanks again, and I don't own any of the characters or worlds used in this story. And so onto the story**

 **P.S. - I recently updated this story and supplied a short summary of a few of the character's backgrounds at the bottom of the previous chapter. It isn't a detailed history, but I think it will be enough background for the purposes of the story.**

Chapter 2 – Silmaril

Years had passed since that faithful meeting. On the surface the world had become something akin to the legends of hell itself. The ground was cracked, molten earth seeping unto the surface. The seas boiled, the sky was red. The servants of Morgoth, the Balrogs, roamed the volcanic landscape. The Valar had been destroyed, the energy from their deaths fueling the destruction of the world as they knew it. Nothing was free, and any and all that were left either slaved under Morgoth or died. All except two.

Deep in their cavern two men clashed blades. It was the end of another long day of training, and as always they ended by slashing away until both were unable to move. A sharp laugh resounded through the air as the younger man jumped away.

"Getting slow old man?"

"Not that slow hatchling!"

Over the time that they had been together Ancalagon had grown. His true form had not, but as time passed his human form had grown quite well. He now was a young man just on the cusp of manhood. He still acted childish now and again, but his maturity had skyrocketed since he and Mandos had first met. His hair was a little wilder now, and there was a mischievous gleam in his eye that wasn't there before. The two men withdrew before rushing in against each other once again. Their swords, nothing more than blunt blades carved from the stone around them, were blurs as they spun through the air. Soon the speed of the blades slowed, the strikes becoming sloppier. After a few more hours the sounds of rock on rock changed to pants as the two sat in the middle of their cave, back to back.

"Hey, Mandos?" Ancalagon said through his gasps for air.

"No hatchling, I don't have any water. If you want a drink go to the lake." Deeper into the cavern, about 10 km away, there was a small freshwater spring.

"But that's so far. Can't you just magic some up for me?" His only response was the freezing water that fell on his head. "Oh ha-ha. Very funny. But no, that wasn't what I was going to ask."

"Then voice your question Ancal, I'm not getting any younger."

"Shush you old man. You were never young to begin with. But speaking of age…" Mandos, becoming worried with the silence from his companion looked over to see a look of deliberation on the young drake's face.

"Is everything okay hatchling?"

Ancalagon looked up at his mentor.

"Are you immortal?"

"…In a way…" Mandos looked at Ancalagon, but the dragon made no move suggesting that was what he was looking for. With a sigh Mandos continued. "Time can't take us, neither can dying in the traditional physical sense. The only way an Ainur can die is if you destroy their true form, a feat that was initially thought impossible."

"Initially?"

"It was in the War of Wrath that we learned that Melkor, Morgoth as you know him, found a way to destroy one. Many more fell after that, on both sides. His Balrogs, our Maiar, each side lost many. In fact, you killed many too. Dragon fire, of the more powerful dragons that is, could destroy our souls much faster than any method Melkor devised."

"Morg… Melkor told me that he was immortal though." Another sigh from the older being followed this.

"Melkor would have said that. No hatchling, he is not immortal. He can, and in time he will, die. In fact, there are very few ways that one can be truly immortal. 4, perhaps 5."

"So there are true immortals then?" A third sigh, deeper than the rest.

"I think that it's time we took a trip to the surface. There's something I need to tell you."

A few hours later they were ready to leave, having changed into the clothing that they had. Mandos had donned his original cloak and armor, silvery white in color. His original blade, forged by Aulë and white as bone, sat at his hip. Ancalagon was dressed much more simply, a black shirt and white slacks covered by some light leather armor made by hunting the giant carnivorous worms that sometimes ended up in their cave.

"Ready to leave Ancal?"

"Ready when you are old man." Mandos smiled lightly as he walked over to the entrance of the cavern.

"Then up we go."

The walk was long, being so far beneath the ground meant that there were plenty of stairs to climb up. The spiral of steps seemed to ascend for eternity, the small space proving to be more of a challenge to Ancalagon than he would have like to admit. To turn his attention away from the walls (he was sure they were closing in) he asked Mandos more about how one became truly immortal.

"The first to ways are rather similar, and don't really count I suppose. The first is having a familiar that is an immortal, tying your life force to theirs. The second is a spell called soul bonding. It ties the life force of one being to another, usually used by lovers if I can remember. I believe Manwë created for the elves, so if they fell for one of the lesser races they could stay as one. The spell was lost to them long before the end of the race though."

"Lovers? Falling?" Mandos stopped, looking at the innocent young man behind him. He had forgotten how little the dragon knew of the world before Melkor broke it. However, he had no intention of having _this_ conversation with the youngling.

"Love is when you feel something special for someone. When you care about them."

"Have you ever loved someone before?" Once again Mandos stopped, an image of his twin Lórien crossing his mind. "Yes. A long time ago." He waited a moment before moving forward. Ancalagon, noticing his friends discomfort stopped his next question before it left his lips.

"So what about the other immortal methods things?" Mandos looked back, a raised eyebrow indicating his amusement at Ancal's wording.

"Well, the third method is not so much true immortality as a way of preventing death. By splitting the soul, you can perform a ceremony that make you practically immortal. You create a vessel, holding that part of the soul in another container of sorts. That way you can't die unless the vessel is destroyed. However, that way is extremely dangerous, as each time you split your soul you become more and more insane. I've only heard of this method being made twice in all the ages, and neither time ended well."

Split your soul? The idea didn't settle well with Ancalagon. Why would someone do that to themselves. Your soul is a part of who you are. What you are. To change that…

"We're here." Mandos had stopped again. Ancal, forgoing his uneasiness for his excitement, rushed around Mandos. His first look at the surface!

…

"It's more underground than I thought it would be." A small chuckle sounded from behind him.

"I said we were here hatchling, but I never said where here was." The response to this was a rather rude comment about where he wanted to put his boot, something Mandos chose to ignore (for the time being). "I wanted to see if you could do something for me."

They had arrived somewhere all right. The landing that they were at opened into another smaller cavern. This cavern, however, was far brighter than the one Ancalagon had called home. In fact, it was filled to the brim with a blue fire. What exactly was burning he couldn't tell. It looked like the air itself was ablaze, yet it stopped at the cavern door.

"Do something?" What exactly did Mandos want him to do?

"I need you to go in there and find a gem for me." Ancalagon looked at the fiery cave. There was something about those tongues of fire that set him on edge. It didn't feel like fire, it felt like something much more.

"Why can't you do it?"

"Aww, poor hatchling. Are you afraid of the scary fire?" Ancal bristled. A dragon, afraid of fire? Who would even dare suggest something so ridiculous?

"No. How dare you say something like that." Ancal looked back at the cavern's entrance. "You know what? I think I'll get your gem. But not because you said I was afraid. I just want to see what this gem looks like… yeah, that's it."

Mandos rolled his eyes, but motioned for the young man to go forward. Ancal moved forward eyeing the flames. They were nothing like the blood red fire he usually breathed. HE glanced back at Mandos, but the smirk that the older being had on his face made up Ancal's mind for him. No way I'm going to let him win this, Ancal thought.

Taking a breath, Ancal stepped into the cave. Actually, he thought, I'm pretty sure this is a tunnel. Moving forward he felt the edge of the tunnel with his hand, the strange blue flames making it impossible to see where he was going. He felt the tunnel curve, taking him around a corner before straightening out again. The flames danced around him, but somehow they didn't seem to be burning him. Not that a flame could, being a dragon a flame would have to be extremely hot to even annoy him, but these flames seemed almost cool to the touch. Refreshing.

Slowly something came into view. At first it was just a bright light, but as he got closer he began to see it more clearly. At the end of the tunnel was something, something incredibly bright, sitting on some sort of pedestal. He walked up to it, getting as close as he could. This, he thought, HAS to be what Mandos wants. Reaching out to grab hold of it he stopped. His hand being just centimeters away, he could feel the power coming off this thing. It was immense, far greater than anything he had ever felt. It… reminded him of something. Back from his part in the War of Wrath. It was all a little fuzzy. Oh well, he thought. Reaching out he grabbed hold of the gem.

Suddenly, everything stopped. A moment passed, the flames frozen in the air. Then they all moved at once. The flames, so alive, rushed towards Ancalagon. Or more specifically, into the gem he was holding. Swirling around the dragon, they all were absorbed as Ancal stared in wonder. Soon there was nothing left in the tunnel, and darkness surrounded him. However, he could still see as the gem he held shone a bright blue-white colour. Shaking himself, Ancal began the walk back.

As he approached the tunnels mouth he saw Mandos standing there, now staring intensely at the object in his hand.

"It's been so long…" Ancal looked at him, wondering what he meant.

"What is it?"

"That, hatchling, is why I came here in the first place, all those many years ago. That in your hands is one of the last vestiges of light. When I came down to you I never expected you to wake up. I had never expected you to be roused from what appeared to be an eternal slumber. I had only come to gaze at the three final shards of the light from the two trees. Though I am glad that you did awake, for I would not trade our time together for anything."

So that's why it felt familiar. Ancal stared at the pulsing light in his hands. This was of the same origins as the thing that the elf Eärendil had used to cleanse him. Perhaps that is why it felt so warm in his hands.

Without another word Mandos turned away from the Silmaril, for that is what it was, and began moving up the stairs once more. Ancalagon, followed, the ancient light still grasped tightly in his hand.

After what seemed like ages had passed they finally reached the top of the spiraling stairs. Looking around himself Ancalagon was amazed at what he saw. The ocean swirled around them, threatening to crash down on them at any second, plunging into the open windows and through the great entrance.

"What keeps it up there?" Mandos chuckled, and looked back at his young companion.

"I'm surprised that you haven't felt it yet. Its presence should be rather familiar to you by now."

Ancalagon opened his mouth to reply, to tell the old man he was starting to have delusions, but something stopped him. He could feel it, or, he could feel something. The closer he paid attention the more it felt like something he had felt before. Then, with a jolt, it became clear what it was.

"Another Silmaril? You said that you came down here to see them right? Does that mean the other one is here too?"

"Yes," Mandos replied, "In a way. You see, the Silmaril were lost to us a long time ago. One had been taken by Eärendil up to the stars to be guarded. The others had been won by man's treachery. However, the men did not do this entirely willingly, they had made a foolish oath and had to see it through. And so, being good men, the two that had taken them each took one of the precious gems and cast them away. One into the sea and another into a fiery pit. It wasn't until millennia later that we found those two. Sadly, Morgoth had already returned, and his first act against the Valar was burning the trees of light to the ground. Even though we had what we needed to bring light back to Middle Earth, we couldn't. So we hid them away, hiding them away with you."

"So why are we grabbing them now?"

"All in due time hatchling. Now, if you can I'd like you to find the second Silmaril for me." With a sigh Ancal moved forwards. Mandos seemed to be adamant on keeping quiet on this.

Now that he knew what he was looking for it didn't take him long to follow the pulse back to its source. Hidden in an alcove, far above them, he could just make out the bright light leaking off the source. It was times like these he was glad he was a dragon. Focusing, he loosened his hold on the magic that kept him in this human form. Slowly, a red light began to shine off his body, and in a flash he changed. Not all the way, as his massive form would crush the temple, but he had become quite adept at manipulating how much of his true self escaped.

As the light faded Ancal's new additions to his physique were quickly apparent. Spotting his cheeks and down his neck black scales covered his skin. Mandos knew from their sparring that the scales went down further than that, usually covering his shoulders and back as well. His hands also had the scales, his fingers know ending in razor sharp claws. His feet, once bare, now had some scales dotting them as well. The most extreme changes were the ones behind him though. Slightly curling around his body was a tail, scaled and having small curved spikes along the top. And from his back sprouted two large reptilian wings, glistening black in the light. He looked over at Mandos and grinned, and Mandos couldn't help but notice how predatory his smile looked as his fangs had sharpened. Turning back around he leaped upwards, and with a couple downward strokes of his wings he had reached the ceiling of the temple. Digging his claws into the age old stone he scrambled the rest of the way until he finally reached the small alcove. He reached inside and felt something warm to the touch. This was it. He pulled it out and dropped back to the floor. In another bright flash his draconic features had disappeared, leaving him as the normal teenager he once was. Ancalagon looked down, taking out the first Silmaril to look at the two gems side by side.

"They're beautiful."

"Yes, yes they are. Each one shines with the light of a thousand suns, yet somehow when you see them together it is so much more." Ancalagon continued to stare into them for a few moments more before looking up.

"Are we going to get the last one too?"

"Yes." Ancalagon looked up, towards the surface.

"Let's get to it then," he said. With a sigh he moved to give one of the gems to Mandos. The Ainur shook his head.

"Before we go I need to tell you something. And ask something of you. Firstly, I want to ask why you wanted to know about immortality."

"I…" Ancal stopped, thinking for a moment. "I needed to know he could die. He spent years boasting of his own strength, of his own invulnerability. I just wanted to be sure." Mandos looked upon the young man, someone that if he was honest he considered a son now, and smiled.

"Your answer is a good one hatchling. I am glad. And with that I must admit I have not been entirely honest." Ancal looked up at his mentor in shock. "I once told you that the only way to end Morgoth was to end this world and everything in it. I was… mistaken. At the time I found you it was true that the only way to stop him was to end it all. But now there is another way."

"Another way? What? How? Tell me what it is! What can we do?" Mandos smiled softly.

"We've already started. When the Valar found the Silmaril, after the trees burned, we knew that they still held the key to defeating Melkor. But, without the trees they needed another form to express their power. We searched for years, ages, but we could never find anything. And so we hid them away. Our plan was to hold off Melkor until we could find a vessel for the great light. But we fell before we could. Everything was lost. That is, until you awoke."

"Me? What do I have to do with it?" At this Mandos gave an incredulous look.

"What do you have to do with it? Everything! One of the strongest beings ever to be on Middle Earth, now much stronger, had awakened! It was a dream come true! At least, it was once you had told me that you wanted him dead. But then I discovered you were only a child. I couldn't put you through that. So I agreed to train you. To raise you like I would my own son."

"Mandos…"

"Hatchling, I am sorry."

"Mandos… It's okay. It's okay. Thank you though for telling me. But hey, I've lived through one war, I can do another. Let's go get that last Silmaril."

"That's not all Ancalagon. There's one more thing." Ancal looked at him. Mandos looked at him with sad eyes, like someone who bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. Which, Ancal thought, I guess he does.

"Go on."

"Remember how we were discussing immortality? Well I never told you the last two methods. Both are very similar. One I have only heard about in legends, and as far as I know it isn't really true. It has to do with three artifacts from another world. Regardless, there is a method that we have determined that is assuredly genuine. And you are holding two thirds of it."

Ancal looked down, a growing sense of dread filling his mind. He was holding the two Silmaril.

"If you choose to collect the final Silmaril you will no longer face death. You will stop aging. You will be immortal. You won't yet have the power to kill Melkor, he has grown stronger than we can imagine, but in time you will learn to control this gift that you have been offered. The light of the Silmaril have chosen you, Ancal. Now you must choose whether or not you accept that."

Ancalagon continued to stare at the glowing gems. Immortality. He knew what a curse it really was. When he had awoken all those years ago, he really hadn't been aware that millennia had passed him by. That his mother, his siblings were gone. That one of the last known drakes, Smaug, had been killed and he was alone. It was a shock, he was never going to see his family, again. And if he took the last Silmaril he would never see them again at all. Ever. He would never be taken by death, never go to the realm of the dead. He turned to answer, to tell Mandos he couldn't, but something stopped him. Mandos was staring at the ground, his eyes closed. He's expecting me to say no, Ancal thought, he's scared that I will make him kill everything. That I'll make him destroy the world he helped create.

"Okay. I'll do it." Mandos' eyes shot up. His face shocked. "I know; the consequences are huge. But what do I have to lose? Everyone I loved is gone. All I have is you, and if you do the spell we both die. At least this was we can go one for ages together. I suppose there are worse things than journeying forever with your greatest friend." Tears formed at the corners of the Ainur's eyes.

"Thank you. You have saved me my conscience, but I hope you know what this means."

"I do. And like I said, I have nothing to lose old man. Now, let's stop crying like a couple of newborns and get going. We have another Silmaril to grab." Grabbing his mentor… no, grabbing his greatest friend Ancal moved towards the entrance. That is, until he actually reached the door. "Uh… how do we get past the ocean of boiling water?" Mandos smiled, a real smile.

"Leave that to me." Walking towards the edge of the bubble he pulled out his sword. The white blade began to leak a pale fog. Ancal scrunched his nose. The fog reeked of death, and his enhanced senses were being filled with the stench. The scent was forgotten though as the fog hit the water, and with a sharp crack the water split, a staircase of ice in a tunnel of open space appearing.

"More stairs?" The whine from behind him brought an even larger grin to his face.

"Shut up and start walking," Mandos said as he sheathed his sword. "It isn't that far."

True to Mandos' words, mere minutes later they were approaching the top of the stairs of ice. Ancal was practically jumping up and down (he would have been literally jumping if he wasn't scared he'd break the ice). It was so close. He could literally taste the freedom.

With another crack the hole closed behind them. They were on the shore of an island, only it was nothing like Ancal had imagined. The blue skies that he remembered soaring through were tinged red, even though it was clearly late at night. The water reflected the red hue as well. The ground was burnt, cracking open in some places under the intense heat, and there wasn't any green to be seen no matter what direction he looked.

So this is a dead world. The thought came to his head and with a heavy heart he turned to his friend.

"Not a pretty sight, is it hatchling? Let's get this finished fast, before Melkor senses that we're here. The final Silmaril is the one Eärendil brought to the stars. Just present the other two and the third will come to you."

With a nod Ancal stepped forwards, raising the two gems to the sky. He stood there for a minute, trying to ignore the silence of the surface. This was it. This was the moment he stopped aging for eternity. Hmpf, he thought, Mandos could have waited until my human form had grown taller. A moment later he felt a tug. He could feel it, the pull of the final Silmaril. It plucked at his magic, inspecting him. It continued this way for a while, how long he didn't know. Then with a gasp he fell to the ground. If the Silmaril was plucking at his magic before it was ripping into it now. Tearing it apart. It hurt like nothing ever had, and through it he felt something else. The light, the three Silmaril, was seeping into him as well. Where his magic was torn it was mended by the light. After what felt like forever and yet no time at all he was laying on the ground, panting. Looking down he could feel a see a faint glow coming from within his chest. Then that too faded. He didn't feel any different, but he wouldn't know for a long time coming he supposed. As a dragon his aging was already quite slow. Turning around slowly he smiled, still on his knees.

"How was that?"

…

"Mandos?" The ancient being wasn't answering, staring off in the distance. Ancal tried to rise to his feet, but his body was too weak.

"We're too late."

Ancal followed the gaze of the ancient keeper. What he laid his eyes on drained what joy he had felt.

"Is that…"

"I'm sorry hatchling… It looks like I won't be able to journey with you after all." Ancal turned on him, panic and worry in his eyes.

"What?"

"A funny thing about magic, it doesn't disappear Ancal. The power that I gathered to end this world is still there," As he spoke his magic, white and wispy, gathered around him. "I guess that I'll just have to use it for something else now. I'll miss you hatchling."

"What? Mandos! What do you mean?"

"DEATH! I need you! NOW!"

" _You called?_ " the sound that accompanied the being was smooth. Intoxicating. Like its owner it seemed to fade into existence from nothing. The being seemed to be nothing but a shadow hidden under a flowing black cloak.

"Yes."

" _Is it time?_ "

"It is. I have the magic you wanted. Collected from all the corners of Middle Earth. Each the last of its kind."

" _And you want me to destroy this world correct?_ "

"I did…" Mandos paused, looking at the young man who was staring at Death with a feral look on his face. Even though he no longer had anything to fear from death his instincts still screaming danger. "But I've changed my mind." Death also looked that way, eliciting a growl from the new immortal.

" _What do you wish?_ "

"Save him. Take him away so Melkor can't touch him."

"What, no! Mandos! Don't I get a say in this? I won't leave you!" Mandos looked at him, then back at the horizon. The hosts of Morgoth had arrived, and leading the charge on a twisted and deranged Fell beast was the devil himself. Melkor, Morgoth, Devil, Ruler, whatever name you called him. He had found them

"I'm sorry Ancal. I'll miss you."

"…Mandos… don't…" Turning to Death Mandos gave a sharp nod.

"Now Death. Before Melkor arrives." Death looked at him, his face hidden as always.

" _I'm glad you were my keeper Mandos. I will see you soon."_ And with that the shade swept quickly towards Ancalagon, who was slowly rising to his feet.

As he moved Ancal tried to scream, to demand that Mandos come as well, but it was too late. A sharp crack resounded as the air split open in front of them, a dark gateway appearing. A scream could be heard from behind as the enormous fell beast landed. Moments later the clang of metal on metal sounded as Mandos began his attack on the demon before him.

" _This is a veil Immortal, it will take you to somewhere safer than this._ "

"I don't want to go."

" _Oh well. I made a deal, so goodbye._ " And with a shove he launched Ancal into the abyss behind the veil. Turning around as he fell through Ancal searched for his friend, the man that raised him, and made eye contact with him. Mandos, still fighting, mouthed I'm sorry on final time.

The last thing that Ancalagon saw before the darkness surrounded him was the blade of Melkor sticking out of Mandos' back, his blood staining the ground under him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! Alcos here! so I did manage to get this chapter done, and I think that I like where this story is heading. I planned out the next few chapters, so hopefully writing comes a little smoother. Thanks to everyone that has favourited or followed my story, it really means a lot to me! Also, shout out to NakedFury for being my first reviewer! In response to your review NakedFury, I updated a my previous chapters with a small list that could clarify things. The majority of this tale isn't told in the Lord of the Rings universe, so for now that is all the information you'll need to know. But, I still suggest looking the the wiki if you're curious. There is soon much more to the history of Middle Earth, Tolkien was a literary god.**

 **Now, onto the story! Reviews are appreciated, and if you have any ideas let me know! I may or may not use them, but it's a;ways fun to see what other people are thinking. Thank you, and enjoy.**

A Whole New World

Swirling in darkness. Nothing but blackness in any way he looked. Tears ran unhindered down his face. Mandos was gone. His mind was racing trying to think of anything other than the hole in his heart. But try as he may, he couldn't get the image of his greatest friend staring back at him, a blade red as flames sticking through his abdomen. He just couldn't. The man that had raised him was gone. His best friend. His only friend. He had already lost so much, been so alone. But now he was truly alone, spinning in this inky, silent darkness.

…Or he thought he was…

In fact, now that he was thinking more clearly (well, more like trying to ignore the aching feeling in his chest) he could hear SOMETHING. A voice. It sounded like it was in pain, though he couldn't understand why. It was screaming one word that seemed to echo throughout the void. It sounded like the cry of someone who had lost someone. It sounded like his own cry just minutes before.

But he couldn't understand why the voice was yelling THAT word. When he was raised as a hatchling he had only ever spoken the language of dragons, an ancient tongue. Morgoth, cursed be his soul, had taught him elvish as well. He was fluent in both, and M… Mandos had taught him Common. Gosh, even just the thought of his name brought a fresh wave of nausea to the drake.

There it was again! The echo of a word. But what was it with that word! If it was the word he thought it was then it made no sense whatsoever. Why would someone yell that?

His train of thought was interrupted as another sound entered his ears. That, and a sight. A bright light, shining in the void. It seemed to be getting brighter when he saw a shape, and it seemed that was what the odd sound was coming from. It was so out place, so strange. Between that and the name being screamed earlier Ancal wasn't sure if he was dreaming or if Death had thrown him into some place lacking sense just to spite him.

Laughter. It just didn't fit in with the heartbreak he was feeling. It didn't make sense in this place that reeked like death.

"DEEEAAAAATH!" he screamed, and continue to scream until he and the laughing object collided, blackness covering his vision once more. Right before he fell into unconsciousness though he heard the scream echo once more, the voice still filled with as much loss as he had in his heart.

"Sirius! NOOOOOO!"

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

He woke up surrounded by a bright light. This time though there was a floor under him, white and blank, and he could feel what felt like tile of some sort under his fingers. He shivered, the last time he felt tile like this was in one of the halls of Morgoth's palace. He shuffled, moving to push himself up when he realized something else, much to his surprise. There wasn't just something under him, there was something on him too! Jumping up quickly he pushed the limp weight off his back. Snarling he crouched on the ground, calling his flames up to his throat in case he needed to defend himself. Quickly any thought of defending himself were left behind as he observed the groaning lump that was at his feet. He didn't smell like much of a threat.

"What the bloody hell? Next time I see that blasted witch I'm gunna show her how much I care for her little psychopathic laugh," the voice lightened with malicious glee as the man (as Ancal could now clearly see) got to his knees, "And I know EXACTLY how I'm going to do it too."

Ancal watched the man raised himself to his feet and looked around at the white endlessness that they were in. As he looked Ancal observed the strange human. He smelt Finally, his grey eyes landed on some very curious red ones. Jumping back and reaching for something in his pocket. Not finding anything he started to crouch slightly, like he was ready to pounce.

"Who are you? Are you a death eater? What's your name?" Ancal blinked. Well, at least this man was speaking Common. Or he thought so. He'd never heard of something that could eat death before.

"I'm a… well to be honest I'm a little lost. Are you sure you're sane? What in the name of Eru is a death eater? And can you back up a bit? You smell."

The man looked at him with barely veiled distrust before his eyes seemed to change a little, as if he had made up his mind, but that wasn't the only thing that changed. He stood up, raising his hand forward as if he could push Ancal away. What followed though hurt a little more than a push though.

" _Reducto_!"

Out of now where a blast of light came flying towards Ancal and hit him in the chest sending him flying.

"…Ow…" raising himself to his feet he noticed a sizeable rip in his shirt. He snarled at the man who was now staring at the boy in shock. "What was that for!"

"You shouldn't be able to sit up."

"Yeah? Well next time I'll try not to disappoint you piece of orc slime." The sarcasm slipped through his clenched teeth. Damn that had really stung. He was lucky that his skin wasn't normal even in his human form.

"What are you? Even a troll would be hurt, if not laying on the ground in pain, by a good reducto. Even if I'm not that good at wandless magic."

"Like I said, what the hell!? You just blasted me with… magic… Wait! You can use magic?! What kind of spell was that?" He was met with a raised eyebrow.

"So you aren't a wizard then? Most kids your age would know what a reducto is."

"Wizard? Nope."

"What the heck are ya then?"

"I'm a dragon."

…

"No, seriously."

"Well you can do magic, so what are you? An elf?"

"I'm a wizard. Human."

"Sure you are."

" _Your almost right_ _… on both accounts._ " The third voice filled the space, putting both inhabitants on edge. A small black hole appeared in the floor, and what rose out of it was something that drew differing reactions. The man took a step back, but Ancal took one forward, a snarl forming on his lips. He willed his hand to take its true form, calling for his talons to replace the ends of his fingers.

"Death. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to rip up that fancy cloak and set fire to the scraps. I'm going…" he stopped in shock as he looked down at his hand. His human hand. His completely human hand. "What?"

"Death?" the quivering voice came from Ancal's side. The other man was staring at the entity in shock. "I'm d-d-d-dead?" The stutter didn't seem to fit the large man's flippant attitude from earlier. "Nnononnonononono. I can't be dead. What's going to happen to them? I promised him I'd take care of him. I can't be dead yet. I told him that we could live together when it was safe!"

" _Well, this is rather unexpected to be honest. I hadn't seen this happening. What possessed you to jump into the veil Black? Never mind, I have more important matters to discuss and I don't have time to talk about this with you. I have but a few simple warnings for you, and thanks to my deal with Mandos I HAVE to inform you of them."_ He turned to face the Ancal. " _Firstly, as to why you can't take your full form, or even part of it, do not worry about it. It is only a temporary condition. It will take some time for your body to adjust to the power of the Silmaril, and so until then you won't be able to transform. Though, you should be able to half form within a few days. Also, keep that hidden please, it would be a pain if others found out that the Silmaril had formed an immortal."_ The last part he said pointing at Ancal's chest, where three circle of light formed an upside-down, lightly connected by two lines forming a v shape.

"Oh… sure?" He stared at his chest and focused on the light. Slowly the glow faded a little bit, and before long all that was left was and outline of the circles in black lines, connected by lines that were also black. Death looked at him with approval (or he thought so. It was hard to tell with the whole hood of shadows covering his face) before nodding.

" _Good. Now, for the rest. Quickly now, I'm running out of time."_

"Running out of time?"

" _Yes, before that one really dies."_ He gestured to the man who had once again landed on his knees, who in turn looked up with a gasp.

"I'm not dead yet?" Hope trickled back into his eyes.

" _No, not yet._ _Now, no more interruptions, understand?"_ He turned back towards the young dragon who was still trying to change his hand. Ancal noticed his gaze and nodded. _"Good. So, you will be arriving shortly in his world. You can ask him questions about it. Really all you have to do is wait. The Silmaril will collect light and grow, and your own personal inner flame will stoke them until their light shines forth across the multiverse. What? No. I'm not going to get into Inter-dimensional universal theory with the likes of you. Stop getting off track. The point is that you can do whatever you want, but if you decide to go around killing people I'm going to get angry. That leads to paperwork for me, and I hate paperwork. I don't care if you don't know what paperwork is. Stop distracting me! You. Yes, the crybaby. Don't give me that look Black, I can call you whatever I want. You died when you fell into my veil, but thanks to the fortune of hitting this hothead you are still somewhat alive. Like a ghost, but corporeal. No, you are not a zombie. No you can't haunt people. Why are you so annoying? Can't you go back to crying? I'm losing my patience... STOP TALKING! … Thank you. Now, as I was saying, you are not quite immortal, but you are now connected to me in a way not many are. Consider yourself a spirit of death. Hades, Hel, something thick the role they played. Like a god. No, not that kind of god. And if you pose like that again I will let you fade into the afterlife. Now, if you would let me finish. You can still die so be careful. I am sending you there, but time passes differently in this realm than it does in yours. It has been years since you have died Black, so try not to be too shocked. A lot has changed, and not all for the better. Any other questions? ... Ancalagon, I don't care of there will be deer there, nor do I care if you are hungry. You may ask Black when you arrive. Oh, and another brand new immortal is going to come out of the wizarding war, and Fate would string me up to rot if you interfere with it. So don't, okay? Alright. That's all I have to say. I am finished here so when you want to leave just yell and you'll come out the veil."_ He started to sink back into the ground when he stopped. " _Oh yes. And if you ever feel like travelling to a different world just jump into the veil. It will take you somewhere, though I can't promise what world it will be. Now go, just don't destroy anything important."_ And with that he disappeared.

Ancal stared at the spot where Death had just been. That had been rather sudden. A new adventure then? His heart began to ache. Here he was, starting a new journey, but his best friend wasn't here with him. He turned to the man, Black as Death had called him.

"So," the man began, "Guess we're buddies now huh dragon boy?" Ancalagon sputtered.

"Boy? I will have you know I am thousands of years old!" he cried (conveniently leaving out the part where he was asleep for most of that time), "My name is Ancalagon the Black, the strongest dragon to ever live."

"Well that's a mouthful. Well, if we're gunna be travelling together then we should think of a shorter name." He smiled, a grin that seemed a bit too mischievous for Ancal's liking. It kinda reminded him of his own reflection when he had an idea for a prank on… He shook his head. No need to let his thoughts wander there.

"Well, you can call me Ancal." The man kept smiling.

"Ancal it is! Cal for short. And you said you were called the black right? Perfect! My last name is Black, so from now on you will be Ancal Black! You can be like the cousin I never had! At least, the cousin that won't try to kill me that I never had!" He laughed at his own joke, and Ancal couldn't help but chuckle along. If he had to spend an eternity with someone he guessed it could be worse.

"Alright, _cousin_. What about you? What's your name?"

"Sirius"

…

"Seriously? You're being serious right? Cause you sound serious. Are you completely serious or are you part someone else too?" Ancal's smiling face was met with deadpan glare.

"That's not funny." This time it was the dragon that was laughing, his red eyes glinting in amusement.

"Yes it was."

"Well then, Cal, my dearest, and surprisingly short, cousin. Shall we be on our way?" Sirius asked, his arms making grand sweeping gestures as he swung himself around the dragon. Snorting, Ancal grumbled something about how he wasn't THAT short before turning to look at the white expanses.

"I guess we shall. A whole new world awaits. Time to go."

"A whole new world huh? For you I suppose that's true. Maybe me too. Won't Moony be surprised the I come back? That'll be fun. Well then, better late than never! Let's get going!" Sirius looked up to the sky. "Death! Oh Deeaaath! We're ready! Take me home you son of…"

His words faded off as the white gave way to blackness and they were speeding once more towards the edge of the veil.

 **And the story continues! Can you guess who the new immortal from the Wizarding World is gunna be? Till next week! R &R please!**

 **[Edit: I fixed some grammar errors]**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone! I'm sorry for such a long wait before an update, Uni life had decided I wasn't worthy of anything except piles of homework for the last couple weeks Anyways, here's the new chapter!**

 **I do not own any of these stories in any way.**

Arrival

Sirius had not been having a good day. Or week. Or year. Looking back on it he really hadn't bad such great luck at all, except for when he escaped Azkaban. He shuddered at the thought. That place had done more to him than anyone knew. Despite his jovial attitude, Sirius knew more than most just how horrible the world was, he knew just what a man could stoop to in order to stop the pain. He had everything he held dear taken from him, and yet he had gotten a second chance. A chance to be with Harry, to be there for his best friend's son. And then it was all ripped away yet again. Well not this time! He wasn't sure what awaited him when they arrived back in London, but he was going to be there for Harry.

"You never know what's behind the next door until you open it," he said, his voice echoing in the empty expanse before them. Well, almost empty. Not 10 meters away stood the beginning of their adventure.

"Who said that?" Sirius looked over at the dragon. Ancal had yet to take is eyes off the Veil. He looked heartbroken, and Sirius couldn't blame him. From what he had gathered the boy had lost someone important to him, someone precious. The wizard could relate; he hadn't known what he was going to do when he had gotten the news of James' death. Ha, he thought bitterly, the thought of prison hadn't occurred to me at that point. Focusing back on the young one he took a step towards the Veil.

"I said it, just now."

"But who said it first."

"Probably Dumbledore, but I'm going to pretend like it was me. Now let's go, regardless of my name I'm getting sick of all this black." And with that he was off, moving into the Veil once again. "Just you wait! I can't imagine the looks of shocks on the ministry worker's faces when we walk out of the portal!"

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

"So… do you guys come here often?"

Ancal hadn't known what to expect coming to this new world. Maybe meet with some people that Sirius knew, help as much as they could if their war was still raging. He did not however, expect to be faced with a force of men wearing dark robes and strange masks. Nearly a second after Sirius had spoken a variety of different colored light came flying towards them, the majority of them a sickly green. The very feeling of that green light permeated with death, and Ancal's instincts screamed that it was dangerous. Ancal dived forwards, dodging the lights, seeing his new companion do the same. These must be the eaters of death Black had mentioned.

"Is this normal in your world?" he asked. Sirius looked his way with a crooked grin.

"Yup!"

The ducked behind a stone pillar, not having much else to hide behind in the rather open room. They looked at each other for a moment before Sirius motioned to the right, then pointed at himself and pointed left. There was only 7 or 8 of the masked wizards, but with those spells flying around they couldn't be too cautious. Even though he was immortal now, that one curse from Black had hurt and from what he gathered it would be much stronger coming from one of those wands. He didn't want to think of what that death magic would feel like. He nodded to black, then stopped in shock as black dove out of the hiding spot. The diving wasn't all that surprising, but the large black dog that landed on the floor where the man had been was. So he was a changer huh? As the spells began to move away from the pillar he moved out the other side. It was time to see how these men fared against his own magic. Turning towards their assailants he called his fire to his throat, letting it grow, and called his magic to form. Three large bolts of crackling red energy formed in the air above his head before launching towards the enemy. Each bolt was about the size of a man's head, and with a loud bang they exploded one the backs of a few men. The red light jumped from one man to the next, sending those it touched to the ground screaming. Within moments 7 of the eight were on the ground unconscious, the last one having erected some form of shield at the last second. Letting loose the fire he had burning in his chest he sent a wave of searing flames from his lips, holding back quite a bit. He didn't want to kill this person after all. The fire hit the shield, and with a crack the shield shattered. A black blur appeared behind the man, and with a growl Sirius had him one the ground his sharp teeth in the man's face. He morphed back into a human, and took the wand from the eater of death's hand.

"Why are you here Death Eater?"

"I won't tell you anything you filth!" His words were sharp, but his pale face gave away his fear of the two beings before him.

"Fine. _Legilimens._ " The man's back arched and a silent scream seemed to fly from his mouth.

As Black continued to get information from the man Ancal wandered over to the fallen Death Eaters (that DID sound better than eaters of death) and collected the wands. He paused as he picked one up, feeling a slight thrum. There was something magical inside, something that was more than just wood. Pocketing the wands, he walked back towards Sirius and a now unconscious Death Eater.

"Learn anything new?"

"Yeah, a lot. We came back at a BAD time Ancal. A really bad time." The man looked much older than he did mere minutes ago. "You remember that war that I mentioned? Well the bad guys are winning, by quite a bit. From what this idiot has told me there is almost no one left fighting, either they've given up or been killed." At this Sirius looked around him at the nearly destroyed room.

"So where are we and what do we need to do?"

"That my dear cousin is a wonderful question. I Think that our first goal should be to get moving. We need to find out where Harry is. From what this guy knows Harry and his friends are still alive, but they're on the run. He didn't know what they're doing but he knows that Moldyshorts wants them captured as soon as possible."

"Uh, Moldyshorts?" Ancal looked at the pale man with some degree of concern. Surely this evil wasn't really called Moldyshorts. That would just be too weird.

"Voldemort. He's a dark lord, and trust me when I say that he is not someone that we want to win. Anything. Even a game of poker."

"Poke her? What in Eru's name is poke her?" Sirius stared at him for a second before shaking his head.

"After this is over I am going to teach you some modern terminology. The point is that we don't want him to win _anything_." A vicious smile appeared over his face. "And I know exactly how we're going to do that."

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The next few months passed by like a blur. Despite his feelings of death in general (he had seen too much of it), Ancal had to admit that war was one thing he was unmatched in. When Sirius said that he had a plan Ancal could have never expected, or hoped, for something like this. Raid after raid, manors burnt to a crisp, resources disappearing. They worked out a small cottage, unplottable and hidden through a variety of charms and wards, and then they worked hard. They had remained hidden for the most part, only letting a few key men know that they were there. One of these men was one Ollivander. A strange man to say the least, and after hearing of their situation he was overjoyed. They had come to him to procure a wand for Sirius, his old one had not survived the trip through the Veil. Ollivander took one look at Sirius and excitedly walked off muttering about types of wood. Sirius had used his patronus, a large dog, to contact him. This lead the duo to a large manor, the Malfoy manor. Sirius had seemed to be quite pleased when they had left it devastated. Ollivander had been very thankful, and was now at the "Marauder's Mound" (Sirius' idea). The new wand he had created was a different than the one that he had originally made for Sirius, and it was a shock when he explained the meaning of the components.

"I apologize Mr. Black if you were expecting a replica of your old wand. Dogwood with a dragon heartstring, yes?" Ancal felt sick at the thought of that core. "Well I must say that when I make a wand I let the materials decide for themselves whether or not they want to be used. Hence why I had you fuel magic into that magical tome. It found the materials that would most suite you, and I must say that they formed a quite peculiar, but very powerful, wand."

He reached into a box and pulled forth a beautiful dark brown wand, almost black, and gave it to Sirius. The moment it touched his fingers it began to give off a light glow which dispelled the shadows of the room before settling down.

"Like I said Mr. Black, peculiar. Whereas your last one was one of a prankster, this wand is much deeper in meaning. Pine wood and basilisk scale. The pine represents loneliness, mysteriousness, and are often a good indicator that the master of such a wand is destined for a long life. And the basilisk scale, that was the reason it took so long my friend. The basilisk represents death, instant yet painless. If it were not for the fact that I know who you are and what you're doing to battle You-Know-Who I would say that this wand could foretell another dark lord. Either way, be careful with that wand Black. It is very powerful indeed."

They also discovered a few interesting things during their months together. First, it appeared that being a servant of death had its advantages. Sirius had changed in a variety of ways, most obvious being his animagus form. What was once a dog could now only be described as a grim from legend. Its shape had remained nearly the same, but it was larger, and that plus its menacing red eyes (when Sirius wanted to look scary) and the way the shadows seemed to melt off of it made the new creature a force to be reckoned with. He also had much stronger spells, and once he had attained his new wand the difference was very noticeable. However, to keep his livingness (as he called it) hidden he mostly fought in his animagus form.

Another big surprise had come when Ancal had attempted to use a wand. He had taken one of the ones they had "collected" from the Death Eaters and made a small swishing moment when he was in the backyard of the Marauder's Mound. The resulting explosion had made it clear to the group that Ancal was never to use a wand again. As Ollivander put it, Ancal had so much magic, and such a different kind of magic, that it was trying to fit an ocean through a tiny hole all at once. It just wasn't possible. Ancal had been a little disheartened at first, his magic was only truly good for destruction, but with the months he had finally gained control over his form once more. He still had yet to reach his true form, but he could form into his half form with ease and he could feel himself getting closer to his real form every day.

It had been a successful couple of months, but like all things it came to a close as one those they had chosen to tell of their true identities came crashing through their door.

 **So another chapter done! I am not planning on spending a whole lot of time in the Harry Potter universe, one maybe two more chapters. Then they'll be off to the Marvel universe for the majority of the tale. Well, until next time then!**


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